


Sherlock: Forks On Plates

by IBegToDreamAndDiffer



Series: Sherlock: Impact [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, M/M, Mild Language, Oral Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:40:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IBegToDreamAndDiffer/pseuds/IBegToDreamAndDiffer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft Holmes is a virgin, but Greg Lestrade is about to change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock: Forks On Plates

**Author's Note:**

> Ownership: Original characters are owned by Arthur Conan Doyle, these versions are owned by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. I just get to play.

_They climbed into bed and Greg kept himself to the very edge of his side until Mycroft held out his arms. With a smile, Greg shifted over and pushed himself into Mycroft’s warmth as the politician hugged him tightly. ****_

_‘Mycroft, I’m really, really sorry. I’ll never do that again.’_

_‘Not... I’d rather you don’t say_ never _again,’ Mycroft mumbled against the top of his head._

_Greg smiled. Mycroft was so controlling, so calm, so strong in every aspect of his life... every aspect except sex. With sex, and relationships, Greg was the leader. And he’d lead Mycroft through it perfectly from now on._

_‘Okay. Just tell me when, Mycroft. It’s completely up to you.’_

_‘Thank you,’ his younger boyfriend mumbled._

_‘You’re welcome.’_

 

\--

 

Mycroft Holmes woke quickly, like usual. He yawned and shifted about. He was in his large, expensive bed, wrapped in his expensive sheets. Nothing different there. And then he felt the warm body beside his and froze.

The previous night’s events crashed through his brain and Mycroft half groaned, half whimpered. Greg had... he’d wanted... Mycroft swallowed and moved so he could look at the DI. The older man was still asleep, mouth parted. He had one arm thrown over Mycroft and his face pressed against Mycroft’s shoulder.

Mycroft smiled and reached up to run a hand along Greg’s cheek. He mumbled softly but didn’t wake. He’d wanted sex and Mycroft had been forced to tell him the truth; Mycroft Holmes, forty-four year-old man who practically _was_ the British Government, had informed his suddenly serious boyfriend that he was, in fact, a virgin. He’d never had sex with a man, not even a woman.

It was bloody embarrassing as hell but Mycroft had never expected sex to be a part of his life. When he was younger he was fat; all through school, high school, and later in university. That coupled with a rich family and intellect the schools had never seen before meant not many suitors had come forward.

Mummy Holmes had set him up on dates, with women, so no sex there. Mycroft had never really been attracted to anybody. There had been some sexual attraction, yes, but nobody he felt comfortable enough with to have sex. And now he had Gregory Lestrade; a man he was comfortable with. A man who _actually_ wanted to have sex with him.

A man who said he would wait.

Mycroft smiled at that, remembering Greg apologising and saying he’d wait for Mycroft to feel ready. Mycroft didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky. That Greg wanted him was amazing but that he was willing to wait... Mycroft was pretty sure he was in love with the man.

Greg yawned suddenly and peeled sleepy eyes open. He saw Mycroft and stopped mid-yawn. ‘Hi.’

‘Hello,’ Mycroft smiled.

Greg wiped his mouth as he pulled back, sitting back on one elbow to look at Mycroft properly. ‘How are you?’

Mycroft frowned, puzzled. ‘Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?’

His partner sighed. ‘Well, last night wasn’t... it was a fucking disaster.’

Mycroft smiled and reached up to stroke Greg’s cheek again. This time the man smiled. ‘I’m alright.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, Gregory.’

Greg yawned again before sighing. He shrugged Mycroft’s hand off so he could pick it up, threading their fingers together. ‘I really am sorry, Mycroft. I never would have...’ he trailed off before swallowing. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you’re a virgin?’

Mycroft looked down and Greg could see the embarrassment on his face. ‘I’m forty-four,’ he mumbled.

‘So?’ Greg said. ‘Mycroft, I don’t care. You’re just... look, you’re different, alright? There’s no shame in that.’ Mycroft looked up at him. ‘I’ll take things slowly, Mycroft. I was a virgin once too.’

‘Yes, when you were a teenager no doubt,’ Mycroft huffed.

‘Don’t be like that,’ Greg said, ‘don’t be embarrassed or ashamed, Mycroft, not with me. Yes, I lost my virginity when I was seventeen but so what? Everybody’s different. You haven’t met the right person. I’d very much like to be that person but only when you’re ready.’

Mycroft fell back onto the bed and Greg went with him. He stayed on his side facing Mycroft, squeezing the taller man’s hand. Mycroft turned his head to look at Greg.

‘I’ve just never... I don’t exactly have a social life apart from the parties I have to go to for work. And Mummy’s never... she doesn’t know. I’ve never had the heart to tell her.’

‘Is she homophobic?’ Greg asked.

‘I’m not exactly sure,’ Mycroft admitted. ‘She’s very old fashioned, my mother, and I just know she’d be against me being with a man; it wouldn’t be the proper way.’

‘The proper way as in a man and a woman?’ Greg asked.

‘Yes,’ Mycroft sighed. ‘Marriage and babies and all of that.’

‘Men can have civil ceremonies or a civil union,’ Greg said, ‘and adopt.’

Mycroft nodded. ‘I know that, I have no problem with being gay, Gregory. I just fear my mother would.’

‘And that’s stopped you having sex?’

‘Partly,’ Mycroft said. ‘My mother always fixes me up with women and of course I never let it get to a second date. I’ve kissed men before, mostly been jumped at parties. Embarrassing, let me assure you.’

‘So no opportunity for sex?’

Mycroft blushed slightly and Greg grinned. ‘There have been a few opportunities but... I was never comfortable.’

‘It’s okay, Mycroft,’ Greg said and kissed his hand softly. ‘When you’re ready I’ll talk you through it.’

‘Does...’ Mycroft blushed again and swallowed before asking, ‘Does it hurt?’

‘At first,’ Greg said honestly, ‘because your body isn’t used to it. If you clench it hurts more. But soon you get used to it, you adjust, and then it’s bloody fantastic.’

Mycroft chuckled and rolled over to move closer to Greg. ‘I’d like you to be my... my first, if that’s okay.’

‘Of course it is, Mycroft,’ Greg said. ‘I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.’

‘And you’re okay with waiting?’ he asked.

‘Yes, as long as you need,’ Greg said and kissed his hand again. ‘Just let me know when you’re ready, Mycroft. You can top the first time.’

He frowned, puzzled. ‘Erm... top?’

‘You penetrate me first,’ Greg said slowly so Mycroft would understand. The politician turned a deep shade of red and buried his face in his pillow. ‘That way you can see how sex works, firsthand experience,’ Greg continued. ‘I can see what you like, what turns you on–’ Mycroft continued to blush, moving to a darker maroon colour, ‘– and make your first time smoother. And it’ll help relieve the sexual tension that’s building between us.’

Mycroft smiled but was still pink. ‘When you pushed yourself against me after our second date, that was... it felt nice.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yes,’ Mycroft said and looked at Greg. ‘I’ve never felt like that before.’

‘’Cause you’ve never made out with a Lestrade before.’

Mycroft chuckled. ‘No, that I have never done before. But I rather enjoy it.’

‘Do you now?’ Greg asked and Mycroft nodded. He kissed the politician’s fingers again. ‘We can do it that way the first few times, Mycroft; you a top, me a bottom.’

‘That sounds...’ Mycroft swallowed and looked away, once again going pink. Greg laughed as he said, ‘... that sounds very, erm, nice.’

‘Nice?’

‘Good.’

‘Good?’

‘What do you want me to say?’

‘Say sexy, or hot, or fucking spectacular.’

Mycroft chuckled. ‘Maybe afterwards I will.’

‘Promise?’

‘I promise, Gregory.’

‘Mm,’ Greg murmured and raked his eyes over Mycroft. ‘So we’re okay? I mean, you don’t want to dump me?’

‘Why would I ever do that?’ Mycroft asked.

Greg shrugged with one shoulder. ‘Dunno. I’m a slob, I like beer, I’m unrefined, I forced myself on you... take your pick.’

Mycroft leaned forward and said, ‘Gregory, I like you because of all those things. You have no idea the amount of... of poshness I am surrounded by daily. I do enjoy my work, my life, but you are so different to both those things. Yes, I like things to be done in a certain way and I do things a certain way. But I like you for you; you call yourself a slob, I call you comfortable in your own skin. You like beer, I like wine, so what? You are not unrefined, you are a normal man. And I like all those things.’

Greg smiled and said, ‘Really?’

‘Yes.’

‘You know why I like you, Mycroft?’

‘My devilish good looks?’

Greg chuckled, glad that Mycroft was making jokes. It meant that he hadn’t completely ruined everything by being an unimaginable dickhead the previous night.

‘I like everything, really. I like the suits, the umbrella, that fact that you know everything, your eyes, your hair, your body...’ he rain his eyes up and down Mycroft, making the younger man blush again, ‘... I like that you love your job and that you talk like you’re part of the royal family. I like that you drink wine and talk about politics and books and... well, everything. I like that you’re giving me another chance and I like that you’re my boyfriend. In fact, I think I might just be falling hard for you.’

Mycroft’s eyes went slightly wide as Greg looked at him carefully.

‘I’m not just saying it because of what happened last night,’ Greg said sincerely. ‘I really am falling in love with you, Mycroft. I know we’ve only been together a month but... well, it’s been the best month of my life. And I’ll wait forever for you.’

There was silence then, the two just staring at each other. Mycroft could barely believe what he was hearing. Gregory had just voiced his very own thoughts... could he really have gotten this lucky? Could the man he was falling for really love him back?

‘I’m serious, Mycroft,’ Greg said. Then Mycroft leaned forward to kiss him and Greg pulled back. ‘Morning breath,’ he said to Mycroft’s raised eyebrow.

‘I don’t care, Gregory,’ Mycroft said and pressed their lips together. They kissed softly and when they broke apart he said, ‘I’m falling in love with you too.’

Greg grinned and then blushed, looking down to where he held Mycroft’s hand.

‘Really?’

Mycroft smiled. ‘Really.’

Greg pressed their lips together again.

 

-oOo-

 

Greg knew he had some making up to do. Quite right, too. He’d made a complete mess of things. Mycroft might have said he was okay but Greg could tell he was still slightly on edge about the whole thing. When Greg had brushed against him at breakfast this morning he’d twitched just a little, showing Greg that he still hadn’t forgotten about it.

He sighed as he leaned against the cop car for a smoke. He’d been at the crime scene for two hours trying to get everything together. He’d had to call Sherlock and the consulting detective had, of course, run about like a dramatic mental patient, snapping at everybody who wasn’t John Watson.

‘Just ask him.’

Greg blinked and looked up. Sherlock Holmes was staring at him like he was an idiot. Well, that’s how Sherlock Holmes always looked at people. Greg wished that just once the detective would look at him as something more than a nuisance. Then it’d be easier to stop himself from thumping the annoying bastard over the head.

‘Ask... what?’

Sherlock rolled his eyes. John was still kneeling by the body and out of earshot. ‘Ask Mycroft if you can stay the night.’

‘You... what?’

Greg didn’t think he was coming off as very intelligent and Sherlock sighed in frustration. ‘Look, Lestrade. I really don’t care about my brother’s relationships all that much. But since you’ve stupidly decided to start seeing him... well, that affects me because his mood will affect your mood and will therefore affect me. So please stop standing around thinking, it’s annoying, and just ask my brother if you can spend the night again. I assure you he is past your little indiscretion.’

Greg’s eyes went slightly wide and he cleared his throat. ‘Erm... how did... um...’

Sherlock rubbed his temples. ‘Why must people be so stupid?’ he growled. ‘Clearly you spent the night at Mycroft’s as you smell of that mint shampoo he has been fond of since he was seventeen. As my brother is a virgin I doubt you had sex seeing as how you have only been together a month. Mycroft would not jump into a sexual relationship this early on. As you are experienced in that area you would have felt that a month was long enough and therefore acted as soon as he felt comfortable enough to invite you to his flat. He would have said no, you would have embarrassed yourself, but Mycroft would have forgiven you because he cares deeply about you and you clearly haven’t broken up as you’re not running around like a raging madman.’

 _You’re one to talk_ , Greg wanted to say but Sherlock wasn’t done.

‘So you two have moved past it and you’re now wondering if it would be okay to spend the night at Mycroft’s again because you like his bed, as you should, it’s probably the most expensive money can buy, but you don’t want your partner to think you’re trying something. Again I say that Mycroft is a big boy and has moved past it. So please stop annoying me with your thoughts and just ask my brother if you can spend the night without having sexual intercourse. I also think that another month or so and he will be ready as he has very much fallen in love with you.’

‘Hello,’ John Watson said and Sherlock turned to kiss him swiftly. ‘Nothing I can’t tell you that Anderson doesn’t know,’ John said to Greg, who blinked back to reality. Sherlock’s words were swimming around his brain.

‘Excellent,’ Sherlock grinned. ‘I’m going to have another look around. There was something about the third rock from that trashcan that annoyed me.’

He bounced off and John chuckled. ‘Rock, right.’ He looked at Greg. ‘Er, you alright?’

‘Uh... yeah,’ Greg said softly. ‘Just um... just thinking.

When Sherlock and John left, after giving Greg some solid leads, the DI leaned against his police car and had another smoke. So now he’d be spending the day chasing down the victim’s family members and everybody who’d eaten dinner with him last night at some cafe Sherlock said used garlic butter.

He stubbed out his cigarette and considered texting Mycroft as he hopped into the police car. That bed had been comfy and he’d enjoyed waking up next to Mycroft even if they hadn’t had sex. Just being with the man was comforting.

 

-oOo-

 

Mycroft yawned as another politician was led from his office. He wanted to relax and maybe have a glass of wine. But it was three o’clock and he had meetings coming out his ears. He checked his schedule even though he knew the thing by heart. Somehow seeing the words printed made him more annoyed.

Usually Mycroft didn’t mind having all-day business meetings and not sleeping for three days. But last night had been very nice, despite the whole Greg trying to have sex with him thing. Mycroft had never realised that sleeping in the same bed as another person could be so nice. He hadn’t woken once like he usually did.

But he knew that he, and Gregory, were busy men and he couldn’t just call up the DI and ask him to sleep over. Grown men didn’t do that, did they?

‘Sir,’ A said after knocking and stepping in. She only ever looked away from her BlackBerry for her boss. ‘Your next meeting isn’t for twenty minutes. I thought you could use a small break, you’ve been running yourself ragged since you came in.’

‘Thank you, Aphrodite,’ Mycroft yawned and stretched.

‘Can I get you something to eat, sir?’

‘No thank you,’ he said and rubbed his eyes. As such he didn’t see the concerned look on A’s face or the fact that she bit her lip. ‘Could you please pick me up some cigarettes, Aphrodite?’ he asked a second later. ‘I’m afraid some business last night has made me want one.’

A slid a packet from the back pocket of her jeans and handed them across to her boss, who smiled. Whatever would he do without her?

‘Thank you,’ he said and lit one as she slid open the vent above him. He took an ashtray from the cabinet behind him and placed it on the desk.

‘Man trouble, sir?’ A asked as she tapped her BlackBerry.

Mycroft flicked ash and said, ‘Are you a mind-reader, Aphrodite?’

She smirked. She’d asked him that her first day. ‘No, sir. I just spend too much time around a certain politician.’

He chuckled and sucked back on his cigarette. ‘Yes, a little bit of trouble.’

‘Oh,’ she said and looked up at him. Mycroft nearly sighed. Of _course_ she knew that Mycroft was a virgin. He’d accidently let it slip one night when another party-goer had cornered him in the coat room. Mycroft had been so traumatised he’d smoked a packet of cigarettes and gushed to A in the back of his car.

‘It’s quite alright,’ Mycroft reassured her. ‘We spoke about it and have moved on.’

‘And you want him to spend the night again but aren’t sure how to ask,’ A said and tapped at her mobile once more. ‘Just ask him around for dinner, sir. You are free from eight pm to six am; more than enough time to cook dinner and snuggle with your boyfriend.’

Mycroft turned pink. If any other employee had spoken to him like that he’d have them deported. But not A; she was the very best assistant money could buy. And Mycroft paid her handsomely.

‘I will ensure that DI Lestrade captures the man he is currently looking for,’ A continued. ‘Now call him and ask him around for a date, sir.’

She turned to go and Mycroft chuckled. ‘What would I do without you?’

‘Fall apart, sir,’ A smiled and shut the door behind her with a click.

 

-oOo-

 

Greg tapped at the door and cleared his throat. Mycroft had sounded nervous when he’d called earlier to ask him around for dinner. Greg very badly wanted to sit down and laugh with the politician and he wanted to fall into that bed once more. But he’d been worried Mycroft hadn’t forgiven him.

The door opened to reveal the man himself and Greg grinned. Mycroft had actually dressed casually. Well, if you could call a button-up silk shirt and expensive trousers casual. For Mycroft Holmes he was practically naked.

‘Hello,’ Greg smiled and leaned up to kiss Mycroft softly.

‘Mm,’ Mycroft replied against his lips and his boyfriend chuckled.

‘I didn’t know if I should bring anything,’ Greg said and held out the wine bottle. ‘Probably not the expensive stuff you like but...’ he trailed off when Mycroft kissed him again.

‘I’m sure it’ll be lovely, Gregory.’ He eyed the six pack Greg had under his arm.

‘Erm, I’ve had a fair amount of wine lately,’ Greg said. ‘I thought I’d have a beer if that’s okay?’

‘Perfectly acceptable,’ Mycroft said and pulled him inside. He took Greg’s coat and led him into the kitchen where something good was cooking.

‘Mm, smells nice,’ Greg said as Mycroft took his beers and put them in the fridge. He sipped from the one he’d grabbed. ‘Did you cook?’

‘Yes, just a simple lamb with chilli sauce. We’ll have a side of salad and fresh vegetables with sour cream.’

‘Sour cream?’

‘It’s good, believe me.’

‘Oh, I do,’ Greg smiled and wrapped his arms around Mycroft’s neck. Mycroft had to drag him around the kitchen as he finished preparing dinner.

‘Gregory, are you going to continue this all evening?’

‘Dunno,’ Greg said against his shoulder blades.

Mycroft chuckled. ‘How are you going to eat?’

‘Dunno.’

‘Or drink?’

‘Dunno.’

‘Is that going to be your answer to everything?’

There was a pause before, ‘Dunno.’

Mycroft turned and ducked suddenly so Greg was without his leaning post. He stumbled before Mycroft caught him and pulled him into his arms.

‘Hello,’ Greg said breathlessly and Mycroft smiled. ‘You’re far too good at that.’

‘You’d never catch me if I committed a crime.’

‘Yes I would.’

‘I don’t think so, DI Lestrade.’

Greg huffed. ‘I would catch you, Mr Holmes.’

‘You wouldn’t.’

Greg planted a kiss on his lips and they spent a good few minutes just appreciating each other. Greg pulled back and grinned. ‘You wouldn’t run from me. I’d just bat my eyes and you’d go weak in the knees.’

‘Oh, would I?’

‘Yes.’

Mycroft chuckled. ‘Dinner is ready.’

‘So?’

Mycroft smiled. ‘Dinner, Gregory.’

‘Why?’

‘What else are we going to do?’

‘Have me chase you.’

‘Then I would have to commit a crime.’

Greg smiled as he let Mycroft go. ‘It’s a crime that you look so sexy putting lamb on a plate.’

With a small chuckle, Mycroft licked oil from his finger. ‘It’s a gift, Detective.’

Greg grinned and sidled up closer to Mycroft. He took his hand and planted a kiss on the soft skin. ‘You have many gifts.’

‘I do.’

He smiled and let Mycroft go to help dish up the vegetables. Greg took the salads to the table and Mycroft followed with the main course. They sat at right angles and Mycroft poured himself a large glass of wine.

‘Why do you like wine so much?’

Mycroft said, ‘It compliments everything.’

‘Nah ah.’

‘What doesn’t it compliment?’ Mycroft asked with an arched eyebrow.

‘Fish and chips from a newspaper.’

‘Why on earth would I eat sea food out of a newspaper?’ Mycroft asked.

‘’Cause you’re with me now and that’s what I do.’

‘How barbaric.’

‘That’s me,’ Greg said and grabbed his knife and fork. ‘Caveman.’

‘You certainly seem to shave like one.’

Greg choked on his mouthful of vegetables. ‘No I don’t!’ Mycroft raised another eyebrow and Greg said, ‘Sometimes I forget to shave, alright? We don’t all have your level of grooming, Mr Holmes.’

‘Are you saying I over groom?’

‘Most definitely.’

Mycroft chuckled and asked, ‘How is the lamb?’

‘Do I have to use words or will a grunt suffice?’

He laughed again. ‘Words would be accepted. The grunting would do nothing to help my current feelings.’ Greg raised his eyebrows and Mycroft looked down. ‘I have found that when we are in close contact my body... it does things I have no control over.’

Greg put his knife and form down and swallowed the piece of very delicious lamb. ‘Are you saying that you are attracted to me, Mr Holmes?’

‘Of course I am.’

‘And that attraction leads to your body doing certain things?’

‘Gregory,’ Mycroft sighed.

The DI grinned. ‘An erection is nothing to be embarrassed by, Mycroft.’

‘It’s embarrassing when it happens in the middle of a meeting.’

Greg snorted and said, ‘You think about me during meetings?’

‘I always think about you.’

His boyfriend smiled. ‘That’s sweet, Mycroft.’

‘Embarrassing.’

‘Still sweet.’

‘Is the lamb good?’

‘Exquisite, very delectable,’ Greg said and took a swig of his beer. He took another bite and grunted. ‘Me like.’

Mycroft rolled his eyes and sipped his wine. Greg just grinned.

 

-oOo-

 

They talked a lot over their plates and after a few glasses of wine Mycroft was yawning.

‘Tough day?’ Greg asked as Mycroft polished off his fourth glass. ‘You barely ate anything,’ he added and looked down at their plates. Greg had eaten everything on his– Mycroft was a very good cook– but Mycroft had only had two bites of his lamp and a few cooked vegetables.

‘Yes, I’m not very hungry,’ Mycroft admitted and yawned again. ‘I don’t know why I’m so tired. I’ve slept six hours in four days.’

‘Six hours in four _days_?’ Greg gaped.

‘Yes,’ Mycroft said, ‘did you not hear me?’

‘Mycroft that’s... that’s bad.’

Mycroft frowned. ‘Why?’

Greg groaned. Great, just another Holmes who refused to sleep the required nine hours a night.

‘Mycroft, that’s not enough.’

‘It works for me,’ the politician said.

‘But not me,’ Greg said and picked up the plates. He carried them into the kitchen and placed them in the sink. ‘Where do you keep your soap?’

Mycroft slid his arms around Greg’s waist and kissed his neck. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Don’t you ever eat?’

‘Sometimes. The washing is done when I get home.’

Greg snorted. ‘Bloody rich politicians.’

‘I’m hardly rich.’ Greg turned to look at him and Mycroft said, ‘Okay, I admit I have enough money to retire and live out my days in comfort.’

Greg shook his head and began hunting around below the sink. He found the bottle and squeezed green liquid into the basin as he sprayed the plates with warm water.

‘I can do that tomorrow.’

‘I doubt it,’ Greg said. ‘Do you know what a sponge looks like?’

‘They’re yellow and sponge-like,’ Mycroft said and chuckled as he rested his chin on Greg’s shoulder.

Greg giggled as he pushed the _red_ sponge into Mycroft’s face.

‘How domestic of you,’ Mycroft commented as he watched Greg scrub the dishes.

‘Not going to help?’ he asked.

The politician sighed and said, ‘I’m quite comfortable here.’ To make his point he nibbled at Greg’s neck and the DI nearly dropped the plate he was cleaning. ‘My apologies.’

‘You’re not sorry.’

Mycroft smiled.

 

-oOo-

 

Greg finished washing and rinsing the dishes and placed them beside the sink. He washed his hands and turned to try and hug Mycroft back. The man had been dozing wrapped around him and blinked as Gregory moved.

‘I think you need to go to bed.’

‘I don’t want to,’ Mycroft pouted.

Greg chuckled. He really did love domestic Mycroft. ‘Bed now, Mr Holmes.’

‘And if I don’t?’

Greg paused and said, ‘No kissing for a week.’

Mycroft’s eyes went wide. ‘I hardly think that is acceptable, Gregory.’

‘Well you’ll find out if you don’t go to bed.’

Mycroft grumbled as he dragged himself back into the living room. ‘May I have a cigarette before going or do I need my mother’s permission?’

Greg grinned and leaned on one of the chairs. ‘I suppose one cigarette won’t matter. As long as I can have one.’

Mycroft took Greg’s hand and led him to one of the windows across the room. They sat on the plush chairs and Mycroft leaned forward to push the glass open. He settled back into Gregory as they smoked in silence, staring at London through the glass.

‘I like having you here,’ Mycroft said once they’d started on their second cigarettes twenty minutes later. ‘It’s nice having someone to talk to at home.’

‘I like it too,’ Greg said. ‘My flat’s too small. And you’re here.’

Mycroft chuckled. ‘You just want me for my house.’

‘Ah, you’ve caught me,’ Greg smiled and leaned down to kiss him. He loved the taste of wine and tobacco and lamb and _Mycroft._ ‘Can you forgive me?’

‘I suppose, if you kiss me again,’ Mycroft said.

They stayed kissing until their cigarettes burnt out and they had to drop them into the glass ashtray Mycroft had on his chest.

‘Please stay the night.’

Greg blinked, unsure if he’d heard him right. ‘Erm...’

‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to,’ Mycroft said and fiddled with the ash tray. ‘But it’s late and you’ve been drinking and its cold and its midnight and–’

He was silenced by a kiss and moaned softly. Greg grinned. ‘I’d love to stay, Mycroft. I promise not to do anything.’

‘I trust you,’ Mycroft said. He pulled himself up and turned to help Greg. ‘I really do love having you here.’

Greg smiled and kissed Mycroft as the taller man pulled him towards his bedroom. Mycroft opened his dresser and pulled out a pair of pyjama pants.

‘I’m afraid I don’t have anything... bigger,’ he said and blushed as he looked Greg over.

Greg smiled and took them, giving Mycroft a small kiss. ‘S’alright. Not your fault I have massive muscles.’

Mycroft laughed as Greg disappeared into the en-suite bathroom to get changed. He came back wearing his singlet and the pyjama bottoms. Mycroft had already slipped into his own and smiled at Greg.

‘Would you like a toothbrush? I have spares.’

‘Yes thanks,’ Greg smiled and followed Mycroft back into the bathroom. They brushed their teeth and Greg left the tooth brush in its own case (Mycroft had spares of those too). Mycroft slipped into his bed and waited for Greg, who crawled in and flipped the covers over them.

Greg made Mycroft shift around so they were spooning; Greg’s back pressing into Mycroft’s front. Usually Greg preferred it the other way but he didn’t want Mycroft to think he was trying something.

A few minutes later Mycroft cleared his throat.

‘What is it?’ Greg asked. ‘Are you uncomfortable?’

‘Erm...’ Mycroft said and Greg turned his head to look at him. ‘Can we try this the opposite way?’

‘Oh... okay,’ Greg said and turned his body completely. Mycroft shifted too and sighed in content as Greg’s arms wrapped around him. ‘Better?’

‘Much.’

‘I actually prefer this,’ Greg admitted, ‘but I didn’t want you to think I was... you know, trying anything.’

Mycroft chuckled softly. ‘I trust you, Gregory. And I’m sure that when the time comes you will be most understanding.’

‘I will, promise,’ Greg said and pressed a kiss to Mycroft’s neck. He settled closer and closed his eyes.

‘Gregory?’

‘Mm?’

‘I think I’ll be ready soon to try the... the thing that you suggested.’

‘Me being a bottom?’ He could imagine Mycroft blushing and grinned.

‘Yes, that.’

‘Okay, Mycroft. But I want you to be a hundred percent certain, okay? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or forced in anyway, understand?’

‘Yes, Gregory.’

‘Good,’ Greg said and closed his eyes. ‘Now go to sleep.’

‘Yes, Gregory.’

Greg chuckled. ‘Night Mycroft.’

‘Goodnight.’

 

-oOo-

 

Greg woke in the early hours of the morning. He rolled over and found that he was alone. The bed was still warm, though, so Mycroft couldn’t have got far. He sat up slowly and yawned, rubbing his eyes.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’

Greg turned to see Mycroft in boxers and a dark blue shirt. He was pulling his tie on and smiled.

‘What’s the time?’ Greg yawned.

‘Four-thirty,’ Mycroft said and did the knot up on his tie. ‘I have a meeting at six and have to go over a few files.’

‘Oh,’ Greg said and rested on one elbow. ‘You work too hard.’

His partner smiled and leaned down to kiss him. ‘I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.’

‘But I wanna be with you,’ Greg yawned. ‘We can eat breakfast.’

‘I don’t have time for breakfast.’

‘Coffee?’ Greg asked.

Mycroft smiled and turned to pull his trousers off the hanger. ‘Coffee for me and you back to sleep, deal?’

Greg watched him pull his pants on, pale thighs disappearing beneath expensive material. ‘Fine. As long as we can have lunch or dinner.’

‘I’m completely booked for the next three days.’

Greg pouted as he pulled himself from Mycroft’s bed. His boyfriend handed him a dressing gown and they went into the kitchen. ‘You’re no fun,’ Greg grumbled as he worked Mycroft’s expensive and probably brand new coffee maker.

‘I am a delightful man,’ Mycroft said as he sat at the table to pull on his shoes.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Greg mumbled. Once Mycroft’s coffee was made he pulled his chair right next to his boyfriend’s and leaned against him. ‘So when can we see each other again?’

‘I have Friday evening off.’

‘That’s four days from now. You said three.’

‘I said I was completely _booked_ for the next three days. I have Friday evening off.’

‘So dinner?’ Greg asked as he leaned back against Mycroft. The younger man ran his hands through Greg’s hair, who sighed and closed his eyes.

‘Friday evening I will pick you up from Scotland Yard if you are free,’ Mycroft said. ‘We can have dinner at your flat.’

‘Mine?’

‘I want to see what your bed feels like.’

Greg smiled. ‘It’s not as comfy as yours.’

‘Leave that for me to decide, Detective,’ Mycroft said and sipped his coffee.

 

-oOo-

 

All too soon it was time for Mycroft to leave. He stood at his front door kissing Greg softly, his arms wrapped around the man in his own dressing gown.

‘You have to go now,’ Greg said.

‘I thought you didn’t want me to leave.’

‘I don’t. But you have to run Britain and stop terrorist attacks and whatnot. So go, I’m fine.’

‘Stay as long as you want,’ Mycroft said. ‘I’ll call you as soon as I can.’

‘Promise?’

‘I promise, Gregory.’

Greg smiled and kissed Mycroft again before saying, ‘Go.’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘You’ll never leave at this rate.’

‘So?’ Mycroft pressed himself against Greg and the older man groaned.

‘Mycroft.’

‘Yes, fine, I’m going,’ Mycroft sighed. He pulled back and smiled at Greg. ‘Stay as long as you want, I mean it.’

‘I will,’ Greg said. ‘I saw you’re shower; big enough for four.’

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. ‘I wasn’t aware you were into that.’

Greg opened his mouth to retort but Mycroft shut the door in his face.

 

-oOo-

 

Greg had to work Friday and the following few days one or the other had to cancel so they didn’t see each other until nearly two weeks after their dinner. Greg was exhausted from a day spent chasing Sherlock Holmes. The man had stolen evidence, again, and it was only after John Watson called to say Sherlock had got himself into a hostage situation that he got everything back. The case had turned out alright in the end and Sherlock was nursing a bruised ego and a broken rib. John promised to take care of him as Greg dragged himself home.

He hadn’t slept in thirty-two hours and yawned viciously as he opened his front door and stepped in.

It took him a second to realise the lights were on. Another minute to smell the incredible food that was sitting on his kitchen counter. He groaned softly and approached the counter where a steak and mash potatoes was waiting. There was a fresh beer sitting beside it and Greg smiled.

‘Rough day?’

Greg grinned and turned. Mycroft Holmes was sitting on his couch with his legs crossed. He’d been reading a book but placed it on the coffee table as he stood. Greg wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and kissed him heatedly.

‘How’d you get in?’ he mumbled.

‘I missed you too,’ Mycroft chuckled against him.

‘Work keeping you busy?’

‘Unfortunately,’ Mycroft sighed and pulled back to look Greg over.

‘What?’

‘I heard about what happened,’ Mycroft said. ‘You got shot at.’

‘I always get shot at.’ Mycroft frowned and Greg said, ‘I’m fine, really. Sherlock’s the only one who got hurt; broke a rib when the guy dropped him on a table. He’s alright, though, John’s looking after him.’

Mycroft smiled slightly. ‘Yes, John Watson was a good find.’ Greg raised his eyebrows but Mycroft didn’t elaborate. Instead he pulled out one of Greg’s stools and pushed him into it. ‘Eat now, Gregory. We can talk after.’

‘You’re not having anything?’ Greg asked as he grabbed the knife and fork Mycroft had provided.

‘I ate earlier,’ Mycroft smiled. He sipped his wine and watched as Greg inhaled his food, nearly choking five times and washing it all down with three beers. ‘Take it easy, Gregory. I’d hate for you to choke.’

Greg grinned over the top of his beer. ‘Maybe it’s my plan to get you to perform CPR on me.’

Mycroft blushed and Greg went back to eating.

 

-oOo-

 

When Greg finished his dinner he wanted nothing more than to snuggle up on the couch with his boyfriend. But he was exhausted and had spent the past two days working like crazy. He nodded off as soon as he sat down and suddenly found himself being pulled up.

‘’M fine,’ he mumbled as Mycroft led him to his room. ‘Really, ’m right.’

‘You’re exhausted.’

‘Nah,’ he said and yawned again. ‘Traitor,’ he muttered at himself.

‘You know you need sleep when you start talking to your body,’ Mycroft smiled.

‘Says the man who sleeps once a week.’

‘I don’t talk to myself,’ Mycroft said.

He pulled off Greg’s jacket, which he hadn’t bothered removing before stuffing food down his throat, before removing his shirt. He let Greg unbuckle and slip out his trousers, blushing as he realised Greg was wearing black underwear.

Greg smiled and kissed Mycroft. ‘Are you staying?’

‘That was the plan.’

‘I have some tracksuit pants around here somewhere,’ he said and rummaged through his draws. He handed them to Mycroft and pulled on his own on before going to the bathroom. He smiled when he saw Mycroft’s tooth brush.

Cleaned up, Greg went back to his room and found Mycroft tying the tracksuit pants tighter. Greg was definitely bigger than Mycroft, but not in a fat way. He was just wide and sturdy. Mycroft was... Mycroft was way too skinny.

Greg practically fell onto the bed and Mycroft had to move him to pull the blankets up. Greg nuzzled into Mycroft’s back and realised his boyfriend was wearing one of his shirts.

‘You didn’t notice,’ Mycroft said pleasantly as Greg pulled back.

‘Helped yourself did you?’

‘I spilled mash potato on mine.’

‘Dirty boy.’

Mycroft chuckled and Greg yawned again. ‘Sleep, Gregory.’

‘But we haven’t seen each other in _ages_ ,’ Greg complained.

Mycroft reached back to rub his head. ‘Sleep, Gregory.’

He’d already nodded off.

 

-oOo-

 

Mycroft woke and froze. He felt... there was a hand on... on him. He looked down to see Greg cupping his... well, Greg hadn’t touched there before. Mycroft moved slightly and the friction sent a spasm of pleasure through his crotch.

Moaning softly, Mycroft moved just enough to see that Gregory was still asleep, snoring lightly. Okay, so not intentional. Mycroft didn’t know what to do. If he moved he’d wake Greg, who was also a light sleeper because of his job. And then he might freak out because he’d accidently touched Mycroft. The politician didn’t want that.

So what to do? It wasn’t as though the touching was bad, it just wasn’t something Mycroft had experienced before. He moved again, slowly, and felt Greg’s warm hand slide against his morning erection.

He groaned. It was... damn it, that felt really good. Mycroft bit his lip and moved again, a soft thrust of his hips. He knew this was wrong, getting himself off while Greg slept. But the only thing he’d ever felt was his own hand (yes, even Mycroft Holmes did _that_ ). It felt really, really good.

It continued for a minute until Mycroft was fully erect. He stopped when he heard Greg cough. He turned slowly to see that Greg was awake and smiling.

‘Enjoying yourself?’

Mycroft burned the brightest red a human being could possibly manage and began gushing. ‘I’m so sorry, Gregory, but I woke up and your hand was there and I didn’t want to wake you and when I moved your hand moved and it felt really good and I’m so sorry I didn’t mean– _ah_!’

His rambling was cut off by a gasp as Greg grabbed him. He began stroking Mycroft through his tracksuit pants and Mycroft bit his lip.

‘Does that feel good?’

‘Yes,’ Mycroft said weakly.

‘Do you want me to stop?’

‘No,’ he shook his head.

‘Good. Turn around a little.’ Mycroft did and Greg pulled himself up. He continued to rub Mycroft for a minute before asking, ‘Would you like me to give you a blow job?’

Mycroft’s eyes opened and he looked at Greg carefully. He bit his lip again and nodded.

With a smile, Greg reached forward and pulled the tracksuit pants down so Mycroft’s cock was exposed. He was... well, Greg wouldn’t be complaining when Mycroft finally fucked him. He took a second to admire Mycroft’s cock before his hand started stroking again.

‘Gregory...’ Mycroft moaned and thrust slightly into the touch.

‘Do you want me to stop?’ Greg asked again.

‘No.’

‘Tell me if you do.’

‘I... I will...’

Greg smiled and went back to work, slowly stroking the hard shaft. He thought it’d take months to get to this point but there he was, touching a very sexy and moaning Mycroft Holmes. His boyfriend was clutching at the bed sheets and gasping every few seconds.

‘I’m going to kiss your cock, is that okay?’ Mycroft nodded and Greg bent down. He ran his lips along Mycroft’s shaft and the politician shivered beneath him. He licked at the head which was already wet with pre-come. Mycroft’s moans got louder as Greg licked away and finally slid Mycroft into his mouth.

It was wet and hot and _so_ good. Mycroft looked down to watch as Greg took him, sucking on his shaft. He was fitting more and more in and Mycroft didn’t know how he did it. Surely he was too big? Not that Mycroft had any delusions about himself (though he _was_ big according to average) but Gregory’s mouth wasn’t exactly nine inches deep.

Thoughts soon stopped as Greg took him completely. Mycroft reached out and ran his fingers through Greg’s thick hair. Greg seemed to be enjoying himself from the sounds he was making and Mycroft idly wondered what Greg’s shaft would feel like in his mouth.

Greg was gripping his cock with one hand, the other running along his thighs. It moved to cup and squeeze his balls and Mycroft bucked into his boyfriend’s mouth.

He knew he shouldn’t and didn’t want to choke Greg but the DI seemed perfectly fine. He smiled around Mycroft and ran his teeth along his skin.

‘Fuck,’ Mycroft found himself moaning. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_.’

‘Enjoying yourself?’ Greg asked as he pulled back to kiss at the head.

‘Don’t stop,’ Mycroft practically whined. He swore again as Greg took him completely.

He was never going to last long and could feel an orgasm coiling in the pit of his stomach. His right hand gripped and twisted the sheets as his left scratched at Greg’s head.

‘Greg... fuck... keep... there...’ he moaned and squeezed his eyes shut. Greg sucked faster and harder, squeezing and licking and biting and sucking and–

‘Fuck,’ Mycroft moaned and pushed up as he came. It shattered everything inside him and twisted his muscles. His skin burned and ached and he felt hot and sticky and completely fucking okay with everything in the world.

Gregory swallowed it all and even licked Mycroft clean. He drew back and pulled Mycroft’s pants up, smiling.

Mycroft was panting and blinked a few times before he could properly see Greg.

‘Good?’ the DI asked.

‘Yes... erm... v-very... good...’ Mycroft managed. He’d never had an orgasm like that. Masturbation didn’t even come close.

Greg chuckled and ran a hand through Mycroft’s hair. ‘I’m glad.’

‘How often can we do that?’ Mycroft asked as he got his breathing under control.

Greg giggled. ‘As often as you’d like, Mycroft.’

‘You’re very talented.’

‘I aim to please.’ Mycroft leaned forward to kiss him and Greg pushed him back. ‘That might not be a good idea,’ he warned. ‘Most people don’t like the taste of...’ he gestured down at Mycroft’s crotch.

Mycroft swallowed and said, ‘I’m curious about... about the taste.’

Greg raised an eyebrow before pulling his hand away. Mycroft kissed him softly and licked at his lips before plunging his tongue into Greg’s mouth. Greg just enjoyed the kiss as Mycroft tasted himself, humming and raising an eyebrow. No doubt he was storing the salty taste away for further review.

They broke apart and Mycroft trailed his fingers along Greg’s chest. ‘Thank you for that.’

‘I should thank you,’ Greg said, ‘I enjoyed it, not nearly as much as you but it was still good.’

Mycroft smiled hesitantly. ‘One day soon I will... I’ll do the same for you.’

‘I’m in no hurry, Mycroft,’ Greg said, ‘believe me when I say that.’

Mycroft smiled and kissed him again.

 

-oOo-

 

Greg groaned and stretched. He was sitting in his living room with a beer, a plate of toast and police files spread out along his coffee table. The case was sending him insane, like most did, and Greg wasn’t getting anywhere. He sighed and scratched his hands through his hair before getting another beer.

He plopped himself back on the couch and stared at the crime scene photos. The woman had been killed with a rather heavy copy of _Inheritance_ by _Christopher Paolini._ Greg was thinking about calling Sherlock in on this one. There were no prints, no one had been seen, and all the windows and doors had been locked. But he at least wanted to put in a decent effort before submitting to defeat and being called an idiot by a gay sociopath.

There was a tap on Greg’s door and he stood, stretching before pulling it open. Mycroft Holmes smiled and kissed him softly.

‘Hey there, haven’t seen you in a while,’ Greg grinned.

‘I’ve been busy, unfortunately,’ Mycroft said and stepped into the flat. He shed his jacket, handing over the pizza he’d brought.

‘Meat lovers? My favourite, how’d you know?’ Mycroft raised an eyebrow and Greg chuckled. ‘Right, right. I don’t have any wine, will beer do?’

‘Sounds lovely,’ Mycroft said as he fell to sit on the couch gracefully. Greg looked at him. ‘What?’

‘Beer, really?’

‘I’ve had beer before, Gregory.’

‘Mm hmm,’ Greg said. He dropped onto the couch and handed Mycroft a bottle. He sipped his own and pulled the pizza box open. He grabbed a slice and chewed on it as he looked over the crime scene photos.

‘Any luck?’ Mycroft asked and sipped from his beer. He didn’t spit at back out or anything so Greg smiled.

‘Not really, no. I might have to call Sherlock.’

Mycroft tutted. ‘Come now, Gregory. You’re more than capable of solving the case on your own.’

‘Most of the time, yeah,’ Greg said. ‘But some are just too hard without Sherlock’s input.’

Mycroft sighed and leaned forward to take the files from the coffee table. He flicked through them, his grey-blue eyes roaming over each one carefully. ‘You are a very intelligent man, Gregory.’

‘Not as intelligent as Sherlock... or you.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Intelligent people do not surround themselves with stupid men.’

‘So I’m smart?’

‘Indeed.’

Greg chuckled and stuffed another slice into his mouth. ‘Anything?’ he asked as Mycroft looked up at him. He bit his lip. ‘Mycroft, anything you have would be helpful.’

He cleared his throat before saying, ‘It was the book shop owner.’

Greg gaped. He swallowed the dough and said, ‘What?’

‘The book shop owner,’ Mycroft repeated.

‘How can you tell?’

‘In four of these photos her books are showing. You can see the same sticker on each of them, therefore she went to the same store. She was obviously intimate with whoever sold them as she has bought a number of books she has not and will never read; you can see the dust on the covers of these ones here,’ he said and pointed to one of the photo’s. ‘Those have been there a while and are not like the books she actually enjoys reading. Therefore she bought them to see or impress someone.

‘Now, moving on to the men’s shoes in the corner. They are clearly men’s but the same size as her own so your officers would have thought they were her jogging shoes. But they’re not, she doesn’t jog which I can tell from the photos of her wardrobe.

‘Next is the murder weapon. That book only came out four days ago and is brand new. The bag it came in is on the floor where she dropped it after pulling the book out. She has multiple copies of the first three books so she is a big fan. The man, or woman, brought it for her as a gift. But she dropped it, most likely on the table, as she didn’t want it as a present. I can tell that from the creased pages and cover; I have dropped many books over the years.

‘The person became enraged when she most likely broke things off and picked up the nearest thing. They were used to handling books so using one as a murder weapon was simple. They smashed her over the head and dropped the book, letting it fall like that covered in blood. They then tore the sticker free, you can still see part of it, and grabbed the receipt.

‘A sloppy cover up as they left every other book there as well as the pen they’d used to sign the credit card receipt in the bag. They signed the receipt on the book, you can see the indents on the cover. Fingerprint the book and match them to the book retailers in the area. It’s most likely close as she’s a book lover.’

He finished and placed the photos on the table. Leaning back to sip his beer, he crossed his legs and looked at Greg carefully.

Greg was staring open-mouthed, his pizza forgotten. He only blinked when a large piece of pepperoni landed on his lap and Mycroft tutted. He grabbed a napkin and cleaned up Greg’s lap, pausing over the warmth.

Greg was pulled back into reality as Mycroft’s hands rested on his thighs.

‘That was brilliant, Mycroft, really. I... damn, how’d you do all that?’

‘I am a Holmes.’ Yes, of course _that_ qualified as an answer.

‘It... wow. I’ve been working this for three days and you solve it in a minute.’

‘Maybe,’ Mycroft said, still not moving from where he was leaning over his boyfriend. ‘They were simple deductions and could prove wrong.’

‘Are you ever wrong?’

‘Very rarely.’

Greg grinned. Then his eyes slid down to rest on Mycroft’s hands. ‘Erm...’

Mycroft still hadn’t moved and he blushed. ‘Gregory, I...’ he swallowed and looked up, his grey-blue eyes slightly wide. ‘I would like too...’

‘Yes?’

He swallowed again. ‘I...’

‘Mycroft,’ Greg said and leaned forward to kiss him softly, ‘you don’t have to be embarrassed in front of me. Say whatever’s on your mind.’

He nodded slowly and said, ‘I would... do you remember what you did to me the other day? In my bedroom?’

Greg grinned. ‘I will never forget that, Mycroft.’

The younger man bit his lip and said, ‘I would like to do that to you.’

‘Really?’ Greg asked and Mycroft nodded. ‘Are you sure?’ He nodded again. ‘Okay.’

‘What do I do?’ Mycroft asked.

Instead of answering, Greg stood. He’d been half hard since seeing Mycroft, he always was, and slipped from his trousers quickly. He looked at Mycroft once more for confirmation before pulling down his boxers.

He sat and started stroking himself slowly, aware that Mycroft’s eyes were focused entirely on his cock. He was slightly shorter than Mycroft but wider and he smiled as Mycroft gulped and pulled at his collar.

Greg continued stroking and moaned a little as he became fully erect. He reached over and took one of Mycroft’s hands. ‘Are you sure?’

Another nod had Greg pulling Mycroft’s hand forward to touch him. Mycroft moaned softly as his fingers came into contact with hot flesh. Greg felt different (he’d only ever felt his own cock) and he stroked softly, committing everything to memory.

Greg let go and leaned back, linking his fingers behind his head as Mycroft jerked him off. Mycroft continued for a minute before shifting forward and leaning down.

‘You can just touch, Mycroft,’ Greg said. ‘You don’t have to do anything else.’

‘I want to.’

‘Okay, just go slowly, stop whenever you want.’

Mycroft leaned down further and tentatively pressed his lips to Greg’s cock. Greg shivered beneath him as Mycroft licked, swallowing the taste and filing it away to be remembered. Finally he grew comfortable enough and wrapped his lips around Greg’s cock, moving down.

Greg moaned and closed his eyes. He kept himself firmly in place as his boyfriend sucked him, growing in confidence until he nearly took Greg completely. Mycroft’s gag reflex kicked in but he was used to ignoring it so he just waited patiently until it died down. He took Greg completely and sucked harder.

He now understood why Gregory had enjoyed this so much; the feel of the hot flesh sliding along his tongue, to the back of his throat, it was amazing. And it was making Mycroft heat up. He could definitely imagine himself having sex with Greg.

Mycroft took Greg completely again and again, adding teeth when he remembered how much he’d liked Greg doing that. He moved one hand to squeeze Greg’s balls and felt the man shift beneath him, groaning.

‘So... close...’ Greg panted. ‘Right there, Myc... right... just like... like that.’

He opened his eyes to watch Mycroft and nearly blew right there. It was beautiful, watching his cock disappear into Mycroft’s polite mouth. The noises he was making, the sucking, the moans, the teeth against his skin... it was becoming too much.

Greg reached out and fumbled for Mycroft’s belt. Mycroft pulled back and asked, ‘What are you– _oh_.’ He moaned as Greg began stroking him, pulling with quick tugs. Mycroft shifted and leaned back down and take Greg again, feeling amazingly aroused as he sucked on Greg’s cock while Greg tugged at his own prick.

Both were quickly coming apart and Mycroft moaned over Greg’s cock, sucking harder. And then Mycroft was coming suddenly, groaning, and he inhaled sharply, licking at the head of Greg’s cock.

‘Mycroft–’ Greg jerked beneath him and came. Mycroft pulled back as the liquid spilled into his mouth. He’d only caught a brief taste on Greg’s lips and was totally unprepared for the full force of it. He grabbed a napkin and wiped at his lips, his shirt, swallowing as much as he could before moving to clean up his now limp cock.

He looked up to see Greg panting and shaking, eyes shut as he bathed in the glow.

‘Sorry,’ he managed to say a few minutes later after he had composed himself. ‘I should have warned you.’

‘It’s alright,’ Mycroft panted and reached over for a piece of pizza. He wanted to get the taste from his mouth and shoved half the piece in as Greg zipped him up. He sipped his beer and said, ‘I just wasn’t prepared for... it was a lot.’

‘I’m sorry, Mycroft,’ Greg said and cleaned himself up with a napkin. ‘I really should have warned you.’

‘Don’t worry, love,’ Mycroft said, ‘I really enjoyed that. You stroking me while I was doing that... I liked it.’

Greg smiled. ‘Really?’

‘Yes,’ Mycroft smiled and leaned forward to kiss Greg. Their lips pressed together softly before Mycroft moved to eat more pizza. ‘Remember the book seller.’

Greg chuckled. ‘Straight back to business, hmm?’ he said as he tucked himself away and took another piece of pizza.

Mycroft smiled.

 

-oOo-

 

This time Mycroft got home to find Gregory waiting. There were two plates of chicken, salad and potatoes waiting drizzled with lemon. Mycroft smiled and hung his umbrella and coat from the coat rack before hugging his boyfriend.

‘Now how did you get in?’ he asked and pressed his lips to Greg’s.

‘Your assistant let me in. Is Anthea her real name?’

Mycroft chuckled. She always used Anthea when introducing herself to the people in Sherlock’s life. ‘No. I just call her A... or whatever name she’s using at the time.’

‘What is it today?’

‘Annabelle.’

Greg snorted. ‘Anyway, she let me in ’cause you’ve been gone three weeks and I wanted to make you dinner. But we’re always at my place so I thought we’d have a change of scenery. And I don’t have wine.’

‘Hmm, I do like wine,’ Mycroft said and kissed Greg again. ‘I like you more.’

‘Uh huh, sure you do,’ Greg smiled and led him to the table.

After the two blow jobs (and the more that had followed) they’d become more comfortable around each other. At least Mycroft had; Greg had always felt comfortable with the elder Holmes. They’d been dating just under five months but had missed the small anniversaries because of work. Neither man minded much, not when they had nights like this one.

They chatted softly and ate, Greg telling Mycroft about catching Sherlock and John in an alleyway. It seemed Sherlock liked a bit of rough and tumble after closing a case; adrenalin and whatnot.

Mycroft covered his eyes. ‘Urgh, I really don’t want to think about my brother like that.’

‘Sorry, sorry,’ Greg chuckled. ‘They’ve just been doing it a fair bit. John had never had sex with a man before and I suggested he top. They seem to have taken to the idea quite well.’

Mycroft chuckled and finished his wine. ‘I’ve been thinking about that.’

‘John topping?’

Mycroft rolled his eyes. ‘While Dr Watson is a handsome man he really isn’t my type, Gregory, and I have never thought of him like that.’

‘Sure,’ Greg chuckled but made hand motions for Mycroft to go on.

‘Well, I’ve been thinking about you and me...’ Mycroft said slowly and pink coloured his cheeks. He really was adorable when trying to talk about sex, Greg thought. ‘And I think... no, I _am_ ready.’

Greg raised his eyebrows. ‘Really?’

‘Yes,’ Mycroft nodded. ‘I’ve missed you these past few days and ever since the... well, the blow jobs, I’ve been thinking about it more and more. And I’m ready to take the next step with you.’

Greg tried to keep his breathing, and his sudden erection, in check. Because there was no way he was going to have a repeat of that first night. ‘Mycroft... the thought of sex with you is seriously fucking hot.’ Mycroft blushed more. ‘But I want you to be absolutely sure, okay? I don’t want us rushing into anything.’

‘I am sure, Gregory,’ Mycroft said and leaned over his half finished dinner. ‘It’s all I can think about and I really, really want to have sex with you. With me... me, erm...’

‘Topping?’

‘Yes,’ Mycroft said and cleared his throat.

Greg chuckled. ‘And you’re sure you’re ready?’

‘Absolutely,’ Mycroft said firmly. ‘I wouldn’t have brought it up if I wasn’t.’

Greg paused and looked him over. He could see the need, the desire, the comfort in Mycroft’s eyes, in his body. He was ready.

Five months. Five very long months filled with crime, politics, cancelled dinners, hurried phone calls, blow jobs in offices, living rooms, cars and bedrooms, and Mycroft was ready.

‘Mycroft, are you done with dinner?’

Mycroft placed his fork on his plate and Greg stood. He took his boyfriend’s hand and led him to the bedroom. There he sat Mycroft down and kissed him, softly at first, just quick pecks on the lips. He moved slowly and the kisses grew more heated, Greg letting Mycroft into his mouth. Because Mycroft would be in charge of this, he would decide how fast they went and where they went. Greg would just guide him.

Mycroft’s hands moved to cup his face as they kissed and Greg let his fall onto Mycroft’s lap. He left them there until Mycroft started pulling his shirt free, fiddling with the buttons nervously.

‘Relax, Myc,’ he said soothingly and the politician managed to get the buttons free. Greg shrugged his shirt off and Mycroft ran his hands along his torso, feeling everything as he kissed Greg heatedly. ‘Okay?’ he asked and Mycroft nodded.

Greg moved to strip Mycroft of his waistcoat. He moved with confidence over the buttons, going slowly so the politician could pull back at any moment. He didn’t and Greg slid his shirt free.

He looked down at Mycroft and was half pleased, half concerned. Mycroft was very skinny, not an ounce of fat on him. He was clearly in good shape but... his top ribs were just visible beneath pale and freckled skin. Greg bit his lip.

‘Is something wrong?’ Mycroft asked and he sounded worried.

Greg very badly wanted to ask Mycroft about the eating thing but he couldn’t bring it up, not now. If Mycroft knew Greg was worried about his body he’d think Greg hated him or thought he was ugly or fat or God knows what else. If he said something now they might never get back here.

So he pushed the worry into the back of his head and said, ‘No, just admiring your sexiness.’

Mycroft chuckled and moved to kiss him again. Greg ran his hands along Mycroft’s back, enjoying the smooth and warm skin. He dragged his nails down lightly and Mycroft shivered, moaning into his mouth.

‘Pants,’ he grunted.

‘Sure?’ Greg asked.

‘Mm.’

They both stood and Greg looked at Mycroft expectantly. Mycroft stepped closer and his fingers were shaky but managed to get the belt free. He unzipped Greg and the DI stepped from his shoes and trousers, bending down to pull off his socks.

He moved to relieve Mycroft of his own trousers and they pushed against each other, Mycroft rubbing into his older boyfriend.

‘That feels...’ he moaned softly but didn’t get any further.

‘Good?’ Greg offered and Mycroft nodded. ‘I know. Would you like me to remove my underwear?’ Mycroft nodded again and they broke apart so Greg could free himself. He fell onto the bed and shifted back to rest against the pillows. He looked up at Mycroft and saw the man drinking him in, running sharp eyes along his entire body.

Mycroft hesitated now and looped his thumbs under the waistline of his boxers.

‘Mycroft, I’ve already seen everything and I like it.’

Mycroft smiled and removed his boxers, stepping from them gracefully.

‘You do everything so well.’

‘Let’s hope so.’

‘You’ll be great, Mycroft.’

He smiled hesitantly and slipped onto the bed, hovering over Greg. He lowered himself slowly and Greg grabbed his hips, pulling them together softly. They rubbed against each other and Mycroft groaned, his face buried in Greg’s neck. They continued for a few minutes before it became too much for Mycroft and he pulled back.

‘I’m sorry, do you want to stop?’ Greg asked quickly.

Mycroft definitely did _not_ want to stop. He went to his draws and pulled the top one open. After a minute he came back with the condom box and lube bottle Greg had stuffed in there months ago.

Greg smiled and opened the box, pulling out a condom. He tore it open and dropped the foil onto the bedside table as he leaned forward to roll the condom onto Mycroft’s erection. The politician shivered at the touch and looked down as Greg popped the lube bottle open. He slathered the cool, wet liquid all over Mycroft.

‘Normally you’d prepare your partner,’ Greg said. ‘With your fingers,’ he added when Mycroft looked confused. He blushed and looked down again. Greg caught his chin and lifted him so they could kiss. ‘Don’t be embarrassed, Mycroft. Not in front of me.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘No need to apologise.’

‘Am I... do you want me to... to prepare you?’

Greg grinned at his innocence. ‘No, I’m okay. I don’t mind you going straight in. We’ll start off easy this time; preparation next time.’

Mycroft nodded and leaned over Greg, moving his legs apart. He might have been a virgin but he wasn’t a complete idiot. Greg guided him in and suddenly the tip of Mycroft’s cock was inside Greg. He moaned softly and looked up at his boyfriend.

‘Ready?’

Mycroft nodded and Greg let him go. He pushed in slowly and gasped at the sudden sensations flooding his body. Greg was... he was tight, his muscles contracting as they allowed Mycroft in. Greg groaned below him and all Mycroft felt was heat and it was so very good.

Mycroft slid all the way in and stopped, just enjoying the feeling of being inside his boyfriend. Greg was playing with his hair, giving Mycroft all the time he needed.

Mycroft started moving, his instincts taking over as he thrust in and out. He knew he mustn’t be very good but Greg seemed to like it. He was pushing to meet Mycroft’s thrusts and biting his bottom lip to stop moaning too loudly. He had his hands on Mycroft’s shoulders and was squeezing gently.

‘Fuck,’ Greg groaned when Mycroft hit his prostate. Mycroft did it again and was soon panting as he aimed to bring his boyfriend to climax. ‘Fuck, Mycroft.’

Mycroft wasn’t going to last long, not his first time. He pulled Gregory closer and jammed himself in harder, sliding against Greg’s prostate and making him shout in pleasure.

‘Gregory,’ he groaned and closed his eyes as he lost himself to the heat, the need, the pleasure. Soon he was coming and gasping, shaking as he emptied himself into his boyfriend. Greg was suddenly tugging on himself hard and fast as Mycroft continued to fuck him slowly, calming now that he had come.

Greg came with a gasp and squeezed himself, liquid spilling across his stomach. He moaned as Mycroft slid out and rolled onto his back.

‘I’m sorry,’ Mycroft said.

‘Why?’ Greg panted.

‘I...’ Mycroft tried and rubbed sweat from his face. ‘I should have... lasted longer.’

‘It was fine, Mycroft, really,’ Greg said and turned. ‘You’re not meant to be fantastic your first time. But it was great and I know you’re a fast learner.’

Mycroft blushed which seemed impossible since all his blood was still in his cock. ‘Really?’

‘Yes.’ Greg kissed him softly, slowly, until Mycroft pulled away. ‘What?’

‘Erm,’ Mycroft said and gestured to himself.

‘Oh, right,’ Greg said and stood.

He went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel, wetting it with warm water. He came back to see Mycroft peeling the condom off and holding it aloft, not sure what to do. Greg took it and wrapped it in tissues before dropping it on the dresser. He rubbed at Mycroft’s front before cleaning himself up. He went back into the bathroom and put the towel in the hamper before returning.

Mycroft had curled himself up in the bed and Greg joined him, pulling his boyfriend close.

‘Gregory?’

‘Mm?’

‘That was good.’

‘I know, I was there.’

‘Thank you for being kind.’

‘No worries, Mycroft.’

Another moment of silence and Greg yawned.

‘Gregory?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I...’

‘Mycroft, no need to be embarrassed.’

Mycroft swallowed and whispered, ‘I love you.’

Greg froze, staring at Mycroft’s back. He blinked when Mycroft turned to face him.

‘You don’t need to say it but I do,’ he said and played with the blanket, eyeing Greg from beneath long lashes.

Greg grinned and leaned down to kiss Mycroft softly, warmly, _lovingly_.

‘Mycroft?’

‘Yes?’

‘I love you too.’

Mycroft looked at him properly. ‘Really?’

‘Yes,’ he chuckled and pulled Mycroft close. They hugged each other and Greg sighed.

‘I love you,’ Mycroft repeated.

‘And I love you.’

They held each other softly, enjoying each other’s presence as they drifted to sleep.

‘Gregory?’ Mycroft murmured.

‘Mm?’ Greg yawned and peeled his eyes open.

‘That was fucking spectacular.’

Greg was reduced to a fit of giggles and Mycroft chuckled. Finally Greg controlled himself and they looked at each other.

And smiled.


End file.
